Song, by Toad

I bought tickets for The Pastels largely because they represent a particular sort of left-field Scottish indie royalty. The sort that would diminish you everso slightly in the eyes of serious Scottish indie-lovers should you not really have heard of them, not in an unkind way, just in a telling way.

As part of the three-band Triptych Festival template they were supported by The Royal We and Electrelane. The Royal We, excellently but a little harshly dismissed as an A-Level Band by a certain member of the party, started a little slowly. In fact they seemed to be operating very much in second gear, but they grew on me throughout the set and I certainly think they’d be worth giving another bash. I get the impression they’d be better in a sweaty, noisy underground nightclub than here, so we’ll see. There are a few tracks on their myspace player if you fancy a gander.

Electrelane are a band I know next to nothing about, besides having heard the name, although The Daily Growl has recently lamented the cancellation of Arcade Fire dates, due to the loss of the exposure they would have achieved from their support slot. Judging from this performance it is a big loss indeed, because they absolutely smoked their set. I don’t want my cohorts of Lady Toads to be upset by this, but generally women are shit at guitar music. There are very few really furious indie guitar wielding women out there, and this is a very, very bad thing: one Electrelane are here to address. Mia Clarke looks almost nonchalant as she plays, bar a veil of hair that gradually slips down across her face as her head nods along, but she produces a wall-of-sound indie bashing that many a group could do well to learn from.

Add that to the rhythmically insistent keyboards and occasionally high-pitched wail of Verity Susman on keyboards and vocals, and a rock solid rhythm section, and you have a turbocharged version of Stereolab at their most full-on, one that even touches at times on early Wedding Present stuff.

I’ve since availed myself of their new album – out this morning – No Shouts, No Calls – but although I have yet to really listen to it more than once there is a very notable absence of the swirling racket of their live performance. Maybe if their producer was heartbroken, alcoholic and angry we might get something closer to their superb live show, which I for one would sincerely welcome. Brilliant!

Electrelane – I’m On Fire
Electrelane – After the Call A random selection from the new record.

After this, The Pastels had an awful lot to live up to, in my eyes, which they didn’t really manage. They started off very late, due to endless fannying about with equipment, but the set began pretty well with a few songs that they are working on together with Tokyo duo the Tennis Coats. The Pastels’ often low-key, Stereolab-meets-Yo La Tengo aesthetic comes across pretty well, but I wasn’t entirely blown away I must confess. The pace was a little slow, although they picked up a little as things progressed, really getting out the guitars once or twice, which I always like. I get the impression this is music to be listened to in your living room first, so I may try approaching it that way instead. They weren’t bad though, and there were lots of elements that suggested I could yet really get into this group. I may start here.

The Pastels – Nothing to be Done